That Time the Hospital Didn’t let me Leave

Let me tell y’all about that one time I was so depressed, I drove myself to the hospital and asked to be admitted.

Depression is real. I do not take mental health lightly nor do I take life for granted. I encourage everyone to dig into their feelings and emotions, to release whatever they may be going through. I am not ashamed and I do not want you to be.

But honey, if you want a laugh, keep reading.

You see, there have been many dark days in my life. At one point, I’m not sure what came over me but I didn’t feel well. I didn’t want to kill myself but I wanted the pain to go away. I wanted to smile again. Marijuana is illegal and I couldn’t afford to go to Colorado so, I wanted some medicine. I also wanted someone to talk to.

I drove around until I found a hospital, parked my car and walked right into the psychiatric side. I said, “I’d like to check myself in.” They were like, “for what?” I told them I didn’t feel well and just needed a break. They asked if I were suicidal and i said I don’t think so… I knew if I said I was, they would have strapped my ass to a chair.

Eventually, they sent me through all the health checks. The nurses kept asking me if I was sure because that particular day, I’m sure I looked “normal.” My hair was cute, I wore a maxi dress and I was able to answer all the questions asked. Mental health does not discriminate.

Yall, I thought I would check in, stay overnight, talk to somebody, get some meds, and check out. Them bitches kept me for three damn days. When they brought me my wristband and told me I’d have to stay until I could see the lead Doctor, I imagined that episode of the Jamie Foxx show.

So there I was, on the floor with everyone else, all of us facing different demons, none of us allowed shoe strings 😂😂

My son was allowed to bring me a few items. I don’t even remember what he brought but I know it was nothing sharp or that had strings.

When I tell you I had the best sleep I had ever had in my life that night. I did. Betty down the hall screamed a few times but I rolled over, asked for another warm blanket and went back to sleep.

The next morning, they came around with the good stuff. Drugs. We had centers after breakfast. Lmao.

Centers consisted of playing certain games then getting in a circle and introducing ourselves. We had to write down our feelings after discussing them.

Bob wouldn’t act right so he had to be taken out but the rest of us got along just fine.

The Therapist pulled me aside and asked “Seriously, why are you here?” I explained that my happiness is extremely important. I told her I seriously didn’t feel well but knew I wanted to live. I wanted to get in control of those feelings before they controlled me.

This routine went on the next two days until I was released. They told me I should stay another day but nah, I had to go! While I felt awkard being in a place that seems unreal because it is often used for comedy on sitcoms and movies, it was very real. Mental health is very real. Keeping emotions inside while slowly dying is real. Take care of yourselves and each other.

* While I want you to laugh at my story, I don’t want you to continue to be comfortable laughing at mental illness. People are seriously carrying around emotions that aren’t healthy, for themselves and the loved ones around them. I am adamant that mental health is something that prayer will not be enough for.